Frank Regan in words

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Month: March 2016

We are five stories from the truth
And them people are looking
Pretty inconsequential way down there
Like ants, just insects really
When you don’t get to see their faces
When you don’t see
The whites of their eyes
They look small enough to crush
Between finger and thumb
To gods like us
Climbing higher and higher
Above the earth.

Like this:

I’m a sacrifice;
A bargain made
Between sun and moon.
They caught me on the blindside
Setting me adrift
In the void
Outside of space and time.
But did they plot alone
The sun and moon,
For someone must have told them
About the Wolves and I.

Like this:

What kind of false fantasy
Do you want me to believe?
What silver lining shall I watch
Kicked into the dust.
What wish upon a star
Happily ever after
Should I cry to sleep over tonight.
A politician’s promise;
A teenager’s wet dream;
Lovers kiss with fingers crossed.
It’s another false fantasy
Another rust coloured dawn.

Like this:

The games begin;
The dance;
The power-play;
The to-and-fro,
Rough and tumble.
The sap starts to build
As life flows back,
Plants bud;
Creatures wake;
And birds display,
Announcing in song
To let all know
That spring has come again.

Like this:

I am small
Neglected and broken
Put aside
In favour of newer toys
Bright and shiny
Presents unwrapped
But it would be wrong
To throw me away
And misplace the memory
Of the adventures
That we imagined together
And the games we have played

Like this:

It is an illusion
But then so much is these days.
…
A journey,
Not a destination.
…
Because you’ll find it
Where you don’t expect it.
In the little stops
Scattered like raindrops
Off the path
And out of your way.

Like this:

I’m sinking, sinking,
Deeper into oblivion
The Sandman’s claiming me
For the Land of Gold and Fantasy
Where a kiss can last for eternity.
I don’t know if I’ll see another dawn
Or if the lure will prove too strong
To stay in that otherworld
That is calling me
Always back to the dream.